Page 65 of Depths of Obsession
I walk over to the outdoor kitchen, grab a glass, and splash some bourbon into it. Returning, I thrust the glass at Gazzago. “Here,” I say.
“I don’t want your?—”
“Save it. If you don’t calm down, you’re going to drop dead of a heart attack. Not that I’d care, but Renzo seems to, so I’m indulging my brother.”
The old man is clutching his arm, his face ashen. He relents and takes the drink, swallowing deeply before coughing. He takes another sip, and slowly, his color begins to return, the tremor in his hands easing.
“Tell me what you think you know,” Renzo says, leaning back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankles. To anyone else, he looks relaxed—casual. But I know he’s just getting a better angle to strike should the need arise.
“I know everything,” Gazzago says, lifting the glass and draining it.
I stand beside him, arms crossed tightly to keep myself from lunging at him, fangs burning with bloodlust.
Renzo sighs, the sound filled with exaggerated patience. “I doubt you know everything. So why don’t you stop the bullshit and tell me what you think you know before Luca snaps your neck.”
Gazzago looks at me nervously but keeps his eyes mostly on Renzo. “I have connections in the magickal realm,” he says.
Rather than denying it, Renzo asks, “What kind of connections?”
Gazzago waves his hands dismissively. “Not important. I have proof of what you are.”
“Really?” Renzo says dryly. “I think I’d like to see that.”
“No,” Gazzago shakes his head stubbornly. “I won’t show you everything, but I have pictures to prove it. I’ll show you one.” He holds up his hands, then slowly slips one into the inside pocket on his jacket. He pulls out his phone, and his fingers shake as he taps on the screen. He holds it up, first to Renzo, then to me. It’s a blurry picture—someone holding another man up, the scene indistinct, their faces obscured.
“I think you’re going to need better proof than that. That could be anybody,” I say, unimpressed.
Gazzago smiles coldly. “It could be, but it’s not. It’s your brother,” he says, nodding toward me. “Sucking some guy’s blood.”
I snatch the phone from his hand before he even realizes what’s happening.
“Fuck you,” he snarls.
I look closely at the picture. It’s not me. It’s the creature that’s been at my club, dealing drugs. My heart clenches in shock—Gazzago is connected to the asshole selling Black Heart.Renzo, it’s the creature from the club. The one made to look like me.
Fuck,Renzo swears again.
“Where did you get this picture?” My voice is deadly soft, and I’m doing everything I can to hold back, but my fangs are lengthening, bloodlust surging.
Gazzago shifts in his chair, his expression hardening. “Not so easy to dismiss, huh? I have proof that you’re vampires.”
“Where did you get this proof?” I growl.
“Not important,” he says, smugness returning. “What’s important is the necklace.”
Renzo’s head jerks. “The necklace?” He frowns. “Why the hell is that important? A minute ago, it was all about Pippa.”
“I need either the necklace or Pippa.”
My heart stutters. “What do you mean you need the necklace or Pippa?”
“I have… a friend,” Gazzago says, almost sneering. “That friend wants the necklace, and when I couldn’t get it, he said Pippa would do. Now that you have the girl, I need the necklace. If you don’t get it for me, I’ll put this and many other pictures all over the internet. I’ll make sure the world knows what you are.”
Renzo cocks his head. “So, the Queen’s Heart necklace, or you tell the world what we are?”
“Yes,” Gazzago confirms.
“Tommy,” Renzo says, standing up, “tell the fucking world.”
